Golden Moments
by Potion
Summary: A collection of silent, unrelated Kate oneshots.
1. Everyone Lies

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately.  
A/N: This will just be a series of silent, unrelated one-shots, all focusing around Kate; some romantic, some purely emotional, etc. I'll update as they come to me, and.. No telling how many there'll be. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

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**Golden Moments.**

_Time is the fire in which we burn._  
~Delmore Schwartz

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**Words.**

Those three little words reached her ears and she buried herself deeper into the covers, looking for any kind of warmth she could get. The cold was sweeping over her, chilling every inch of her body, but she refused to shudder. She refused to freeze up, she refused to let her partner know. It had been all heat, all warmth a few moments ago and now she felt like she was about to freeze to death. All because of three simple words.

He got up, sending her a smile as he pulled on his boxers. Red and black plaid ones she liked better than any of the other ones in his drawer, for some reason or another. She forced a small smile back at him, knowing it was all that he needed to be convinced everything was fine. She buried herself deeper in the covers as a shiver ran through her, suddenly glad that he couldn't find his pants and his back was turned. She wanted him to go, to leave, to get dressed and to go _home_ but she also wanted him to stay, to hold her tight, to fall asleep with her in his arms and to make _this_ his home.

He pulled his shirt over his head and she let out a small sigh, grateful that he was far away enough that he wouldn't be able to tell. Kate wasn't stupid, she wasn't naive, she knew it would never happen. He had his home, she had her's, and it didn't matter what he said because none of it was true. His proclamations of love were false unless he said _this,_ not _you. _She knew full well that he didn't love her, he just loved what she did to him. That was all he wanted, all he needed.

If it were love he wouldn't have to say it. If it were love he would stay in bed more than five minutes after, he would hold her. He would be content to just be with her, silent, happy, _together._ He would want to hold her and date her and be with her in more ways than just one. This wasn't love, his repeated words and her repeated nods and their repeated nights. It wasn't love, no matter how much he wanted her to think so and how much she wanted it to be.

Love was more than words, and that's all he had for her. Words. Not actions, not love, _words._

Kate buried her head in the pillow as he left the room, telling her one more time that he loves her before he left. She heard the door shut and knew she was truly all alone, all alone with the silence and the words that he always wanted to speak, as if trying to convince himself more than her.

She knew that words were empty. Actions were all that mattered. Everyone's words lie. Nobody's actions do.

--


	2. Nothing Lasts Forever

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately.

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**Golden Moments.**

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**Nothing Lasts Forever.**

The gun moves under her hand, the bullet soars through the air and the scream pierces into her mind. She hears it, hears the screaming but she can't bring herself back to reality. The gun drops from her hand and falls to the ground, clattering against the tiled floor as it lands beside her flashlight. The blood seeps into her line of vision and she stares at it, stares at the thick red liquid creeping across the floor. The painful moans and groans still hit her brain, the sounds of pain and shock making her shake. She hadn't meant to, she hadn't meant to..

Eventually the noises stop and the blood goes as far as it's willing. Eventually her body stops shaking and her hands slowly unclench. Eventually she allows herself to blink and she allows herself to let go of the breath she's been holding. Eventually she forces her head upwards and makes herself look at what she's done.

The absolute horror on his face remained with him even in death. She had always thought that a dead body was supposed to look peaceful - they always had in Ducky's lab, their muscles relaxed and almost seeming like they were sleeping. She didn't think she would ever see such pain and shock on a dead person's face. She didn't think she would ever be the cause of such pain and shock on a dead person's face.

She hears the rest of the team rushing up behind her, hears Gibbs and Tony shouting her name once they see her. She hears them ask what's going on, she hears the way they cut themselves off mid-sentence when they see what she sees. She feels somebody's hand on her shoulder and she feels McGee's breath on her neck, that unsure breathing pattern he gets when he's nervous. But she doesn't move. Her eyes won't move away from the petty officer's body and her body won't move anywhere. Nobody deserved that, nobody deserved what just happened.

Kate hears footsteps leaving the room, but she doesn't bother to turn and see who's leaving her. She doesn't care. She wants to bring the dead man in front of her back to life. Twenty years old. She killed a twenty year old.

The gun in his hand wasn't even cocked, the safety barely undone, but she had shot him. She had warned him, and he hadn't listened, but she should have taken more time. She should have tried harder, because she knows, knows, _knows_ that if she could have one more try they both could have gotten out it alive. He may have murdered an innocent woman but that didn't mean he deserved to be murdered.

She feels the tears sting at her eyes and she takes in a shaky breath, not wanting to let herself cry. Not in front of them. Gibbs and Tony never cried. They killed and they didn't cry, she shouldn't be any different. She can handle this. She's strong.

She feels someone's arms wrap around her and she collapses into his chest. She won't let herself cry but she doesn't mind the hug, doesn't mind the comfort even if she's sure that she doesn't deserve it. She doesn't mind the other man's hands rubbing her back, doesn't mind that they're both trying their best to make her feel better even if now she's no better than the man she just killed.

She swallows down the nausea in her throat as she hears Ducky enter, hears the body get put on a gurney, hears the plastic wrap going over his face. She knows what's happening without looking and she knows what will happen later, what will happen when they all get back to the office and nobody mentions this comforting. When she and Gibbs and Tony will act like the hug and the back rub never happened, when Ducky will act like he didn't see a thing, when they'll all go back to being normal. She knows that it'll happen soon enough but she doesn't want this moment to end, not yet, because she doesn't want to pull away and have to face the facts. She doesn't want to have to face herself, doesn't want to have to look in the mirror and see this stranger staring back at her.

She clings onto Tony for dear life, is glad that Gibbs doesn't leave and just wants to go back in time.

Nothing lasts forever, though, and Kate knows it was his turn just as much as it will be her's one day. She just wishes that helped her feel better, if even by a little bit.


	3. I Will

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately.  
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed; I'm glad you're liking this. (: This one's pretty short, but.. Enjoy!

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**Golden Moments.**

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**I Will.**

It happened all of the time. He would yell. She would whisper. He would kick her out. The last thing she would remember as she left was the smell of the alcohol on his breath, the red in his eyes.

She would get in the car and just drive with nowhere to go. After a while, though, she began to relish the small time of freedom and peace she had after their fights, after he ended things. Kate always felt so much better without him, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders.

She never made it very far. Her phone would ring, she would answer, and he would be crying, telling her just how much he loved her and how much he needed her.

And though everything in her screamed not to, she would always turn the car around, wanting nothing more than to save him from himself.


	4. Behind Closed Doors

Disclaimer: I own nothing, unfortunately.  
A/N: We read an article in class that had this sort of format and I thought it'd be interesting to try. You can read it as it is or you can read the normal font parts all at once and then the italics, whichever, it should make some sort of sense either way. Let me know what you think.

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**Golden Moments.**

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**Behind Closed Doors.**

She stumbles through the doorway, grabbing on to the doorframe to help keep her steady. Normally she would scoff at how the darkness in her apartment seems to reflect the darkness shrouding her heart, but she doesn't have it left in her anymore. She can't bring herself to fake a scoff at the irony even for her own sake. All she wants to do is cry, or scream, or sleep until it doesn't matter anymore. The alcohol didn't work. She can feel it, clouding her mind and her movements ever so slightly, but it didn't take away the hurt. She doesn't want to hurt. She doesn't want to feel the pain. She doesn't want to feel so weak, to feel like any word is going to make her break down. But it doesn't seem like it would matter how drunk she got. The feeling would still be there, pulling her apart into tiny little pieces. The burning in her chest mixed in with the burn from the alcohol and it only made her want to tear, tear, _tear_ her heart out of her chest and it was all Abby could do to make her stop trying, but still, Abby had to go home and now she was all alone, the burning only getting worse and the alcohol only wearing off with each passing moment.

_A week ago the shadows that danced on the walls would have made her smile as she thought about the symbolism. A week ago it had been a secret, a lie, something they had hidden in their minds and their hearts, covered with all of the other dark things that lingered there. The shadows had been their protection, but they didn't need it anymore. They had let out the secret, let out the truth, let everything out of their hiding places and set them out into the world. They had told, they had admitted to their sins but they hadn't repented. They didn't feel regret. They didn't feel bad. This was what they wanted, this feeling, together in each other's arms, just laying. Together. Happy. Not worrying about the world outside, not worrying about the people they had hurt or the people they had betrayed. Because those people don't matter, not at this moment.  
_

The bed doesn't do much to comfort her. The tears seep through her eyes like raindrops, but it doesn't ease the pain. The sobs that rack through her body only make her chest hurt more. Nothing ever seems to help, nothing ever seems to numb her. She wants it to be okay. She wants to be able to smile, to be able to laugh, to see _her_ and to see _him_ and not feel nauseated. She wants everything to be normal again. She doesn't want to hear their laughter, to see them together and have those images jump into her mind. She doesn't want to see the look on their faces when they look at her, like they're so much better than her and she's just a broken, helpless little child now. She's _not._ She's hurt. She doesn't want to be hurt, but she is, and it's _their_ fault. But they don't care.

_She knows she should feel bad. She knows she should feel awful, like the worst person in the world, but she doesn't _want_ to and she can't make herself. She knows the look on Kate's face should break her heart, should make her want to cry, but it doesn't. She knows that the fake smiles and hollow laughs Kate manages should make her feel even worse, but she can't fake that sort of pain. She can't. She wants to, to be able to make her feel a little bit better, but she can't do it. She doesn't feel bad. All she feels for the other woman is a growing pity. The arm around her tightens and she can't help but smile. Lips press against her hair and she can't help but snuggle closer to the warm body beside her's. He whispers something, but she can't quite hear him and she's not sure she wants to. Words only ruin the moment. She smiles into his chest as he rubs her back. She wonders why she couldn't have had this earlier, why she couldn't have realized what had been in front of her all along. She wonders why she had to break Kate's heart in order to get it. But the small ounce of guilt that starts to rise in her chest is forgotten as he pulls her on top of him, running kisses down her neck..._

It's cold and she hates this feeling. She stares at herself in the bathroom mirror and hates herself for it. Her eyes are as cold and empty as the smile she plasters onto her face. Her body shakes as much as her breath. The bags under her eyes show just how much sleep she's lost, just how much time she spends awake, unable to sleep. The bile rises in her throat and she fights it off. The last thing she wants to do is throw up. She needs the alcohol to be in her body, she needs the thoughts to be blurred and erratic. She doesn't want to spend too much time on one thing, doesn't want to have to really think. She just wants to disappear, to fall into the darkness and then one day, one day she wants to go back into the light and leave the pain and the hurt and the loss behind. Leave it in the dark. She swallows hard and touches her chest, the scratches already starting to scab over. Her heart pounds against her ribs. She stares at the red marks and can't believe she would do that to herself, that she would go that far - but as she tries to figure it out her body is already forcing her nails back into the skin, forcing the wounds to reopen and creating new ones, relishing the pain as it flows through her.

_The silence falls onto them once again, broken only by their heavy breathing. Neither can catch their breath, and it almost reminds her of her time with Kate - almost. There's still something here with Tony that she can't place, some sort of comfort and familiarity that she hadn't had with Kate. She listens to his breathing slow, watches his chest rise and fall gently with each breath, watches his eyes slide closed as sleep overtakes him and the smallest smile crosses her face. She forces the thoughts of Kate out of her mind as she turns over on her side and stares at the wall. She still doesn't feel bad. She still doesn't wish that she hadn't done it but there is a part of her that misses Kate, misses the way they would always snuggle, misses the way Kate would whisper into her ear until she fell asleep, misses the way she never went to sleep first. Ziva hated being the last one awake, and somehow, Kate knew that, without having to be told. She wishes Tony could know, like Kate knew, but she knows that it's never going to be the same. She doesn't want it to be the same. She chose Tony._

She puts a shaking hand on the bathroom counter, trying to hold herself up. Her knees threaten to buckle underneath her but she doesn't want to fall, not yet. She's put all this effort into standing up and she's not ready to let go of that yet, not ready to give up. But there's not much she can do as her arm gives way and she falls onto the ground, the cold of the tile seeping through her clothes and making her shiver. She curls up, trying to get as warm as she can, and words come out of her mouth. She's not even sure what she's saying through the blood pounding against her ears, not sure who she's praying to anymore because she's not sure that the God she was praying to to begin with is listening. Her neck hurts but she doesn't bother moving, doesn't try to change her position because she knows that if she does it's just going to hurt worse. She knows that it can't help, because even if her neck feels better it won't change the feeling in her stomach and her throat and her chest and even more the feeling in her _heart._ Because _she_ came and _she_ left like _she_ said _she_ would never do, just like everybody before _her_ had done, and Kate's not sure she can handle it.

_She feels her eyelids start to tug down and she lets them, lets the sleep start to cover her. She's glad to be able to stop thinking, glad to be able to stop questioning herself about whether or not she did the right thing. She knows what she did was wrong but she knows that it was the best thing to do for her, it was the _right_ thing for her._

She feels her eyelids start to tug down and she lets them, lets the sleep start to cover her. She's glad to be able to stop feeling, glad to be able to stop missing _her_ and stop hating _him _if only for a couple of hours. She knows that it won't be long before the nightmares wake her up but she doesn't have the energy or the strength in her anymore to keep herself awake, to keep fighting.


	5. Red Light

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, sorry.  
A/N: Well, I'm not sure if I like this one too much. And I promise I'll have a happy one soon - I just have to be able to think of a happy idea, haha. Anyhoo, enjoy!

**Golden Moments.**

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**Red Light.**

Her hand tightened on the steering wheel. She kept her eyes fixed on the road ahead. Her foot slowly pressed the gas as the light turned from red to green. She swallowed thickly, frustratingly aware of the silence. But neither of them had anything left to say, and neither of them had any interest in listening.

The sun beat down into the car, making it hotter as the seconds wore on. Kate refused to turn the air on, and Ziva knew she was no longer welcome to mess with it. Kate liked control. Right now there wasn't much she could control besides the car, and Ziva let her have that much. Her world was falling apart around her, crumbling at her feet, and there was no indication in the world around her. The sun shone brighter than it had in months, with no intention of letting darkness cover them or letting rain fall. It was Saturday, her favorite day of the week. The whole city was full of happy people. A young couple walked down the sidewalk, kissing. An elderly couple walking the other way held hands and laughed. Those were the last words she would have ever expected to hear on a day like that. The last words she would have ever expected to hear come out so calmly, so simply, so to-the-point. She thought it was good. She thought they had been happy. She wasn't prepared for _'it's over'._

She should have been. She glared at the stoplight and told herself that yeah, she should have been prepared. She should have expected it. She knew rule twelve and she knew how it always turned out when she broke it. She broke it in the Secret Service and those men _died. _So it only made sense to her that karma, being the bitch that it was, would come back and bite her in the ass, as if she hadn't hurt at all when they died. _She_ had to be the one to suffer this time.

Kate blinked back tears before the other woman could see them. She could feel Ziva's eyes on her and she hated it. She hated that somebody could make her feel like this with only a few simple words and not feel anything themselves. She hated how the only thing keeping her together was her tightening hold on the steering wheel and her unwavering focus on the road. She felt _weak._

She wished it would start raining, like it did in the movies. She wished that it wasn't bright and sunny and peaceful outside. She wished that this was just like the first twenty minutes of a movie, where they have to break up to get you interested. She wished that they could get back together, right now, skip the whole hour - or however long an hour in 'movie time' would be in 'real time' - and go straight for the last ten minutes where everything ends up the way it's supposed to be. She wished that this wasn't the end of their movie, where there's not enough time for the make-up. She wished that there was a green light in front of her.

All Kate got was the end and a red light.

--


	6. Hero

Disclaimer: Still don't own anything, sorry.  
A/N: Eh, this idea was bugging me for a while. I'm not sure if I like the way it came out, though. Comments?

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**Golden Moments.**

**-  
**

**Hero.  
**

I could have been a hero.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like that's all I was living for. When I was alive I couldn't have cared less, just so long as I was _living._ But I'm not living anymore, am I? I'm dead.

I just wish that he had killed me a few seconds before, when I was jumping to take the bullet for Gibbs. Then my death would have meant something. I would have died protecting someone I loved. There would have been a reason for them to remember me, some reason other than "you killed my co-worker!" for them to want to kill Ari. They would be able to think back on me and think, "gosh, that was brave of her". Anything, not just "I miss Kate".

Because that's all they can say about me, really. I didn't help save anybody. My death didn't do any good for anyone. Nobody was going to die if I didn't. Ari shot at me and I took the bullet, and that was that. My willingness to take the bullet for Gibbs meant _nothing_ because that's not why I died.

So now, now I'm just a memory with really no reason to be remembered. I'm stuck in my head, in my thoughts, and that's all I've got. I don't get to think, "boy, I did good, didn't I?" because I didn't. They headlines are going to read "NCIS Agent Killed" not "NCIS Agent Killed on Protection Detail". The former says that I just got shot doing nothing. The latter says I died protecting someone, I died trying to keep somebody else alive.

People aren't remembered by what they do with their lives unless it's something super important. I didn't do anything like that, I didn't find a cure for cancer or become President. I was just normal. Normal people don't get remembered for anything they did, just all the things they didn't do and the way they died. Regular people are remembered as 'the teenager who shot himself' or 'that girl who died in the car crash two years ago' or 'those two campers who suffocated in their sleeping bags'. Their names aren't remembered, what they did with their lives aren't remembered, all of those possibilities aren't remembered. It doesn't matter what they did with their lives because nobody remembers.

I'm sure nobody remembers anymore what I did with my life. I'm sure nobody remembers the things I did, the people I saved. I'm sure nobody remembers the way I took a bullet for Gibbs. Nobody remembers anymore, but if it weren't for bulletproof vests, they could have.

I could have been a hero.

--


	7. Stand

Disclaimer: Me no own. ):  
A/N: I liked the idea more so than the way it came out, if that makes any sense. I like it, but then again, I don't. Anyway. Comments, suggestions, anything?

**Golden Moments.**

**-  
**

**Stand.**

**-  
**

_Walk._

Good things come around every so often. Things fall into a routine, life becomes good, she's happy. It can be that simple; it's at these times that she relaxes, starts to become comfortable with herself again, starts to become comfortable with the people and things around her. She becomes attached to her surroundings and everything in them. She puts her heart into her work, cares for the people she's around, and she gets into it. She knows that she shouldn't - a little voice in her head nags at her, telling her everything that could possibly go wrong - but she does anyway. She watches the life she's made for herself and she walks beside it. She walks beside the people she's fallen in love with, the things she's grown attached to, growing and changing with them as they grow and change with her. And she likes it that way.

_Run._

So she becomes confident. That's the way it always happens. She grows accustomed to her life and wants more out of it. She knows there's more out there, just waiting for her to take it, so she tries. She reaches for the stars without thinking. She loves the life she's made for herself and she wants to make it better. She wants other people to be happy, so she tries to make their world better while making her's better. She wants to be remembered, so she tries to make a reason to be. She wants to fix everything, wants everything to be _perfect,_ so she tries to glue together things that aren't broken. She looks at the life she's made, the life walking beside her, and she has an idea. She starts to run. She tries to grow and change too fast, tries to make the things and people around her grow and change as she does, even if they don't want to. Even if they can't. She just wants it all to be better, so she runs, runs towards those stars in the sky and the finish line in the distance.

_Stumble._

There's always something that gets in her way. Something small, barely visible. Something enough to make her falter, something enough to make her waver and start to fall but not quite land her on the ground. She catches herself. She's paying attention. She gets her balance back and then keeps running, not bothering to slow down. It was just one obstacle; life is full of obstacles. They always told her, don't let one thing get you down. So she doesn't. She keeps running, keeps changing and growing and enjoying what she's made of her life. She doesn't worry about the stumble, just so long as she catches herself. She stays confident. She stays proud. She won't give up that easily. She's still up, she can still run, she can still try to make things better. One little stumble doesn't change that. She still has her friends and her family and her home and her _life_.

_Fall._

Maybe it's the overconfidence that becomes her downfall. Maybe it's because she isn't paying enough attention, focusing only on the good things and trying to make _them_ better, so she fails to see the warning signs. Or maybe it's just because something - or someone - out there has it out for her and just wants to watch her suffer. It doesn't really matter, because no matter what something comes out of nowhere and she falls. Something changes - a sudden curve comes up in the path she's running, something hits her, she does something wrong - and she ends up with nothing. She feels like she loses everything. Nothing's the same, nothing will ever be the same. She always loses something; in the Secret Service, she lost Tim Kerry. At NCIS, she has lost so many things. She's killed a man. That's a part of her innocence she'll never get back. She's fallen. She sits, looking at her shattered life, gluing back together what she can reach from her spot on the ground. Then somebody starts to get close. Somebody gets close enough to see her sitting there, and she stops gluing.

_Stand._

It hurts and her legs feel like they're about to fall out from underneath her, but she forces herself to stand. She stands before anyone can realize that she's fallen. She doesn't want them to see her like this, to see her so weak and helpless. She doesn't want to let them know she's hurt. She doesn't want the pitying eyes, the curious glances, the caring words, or the comforting hugs and backrubs. She doesn't want them to feel bad for her. So she pushes herself up, using whatever she can grab onto to help her up. She waits until the people around her think she's okay before she lets herself relax. She looks around, takes in her surroundings, and then prepares herself. She knows it's going to be a long road ahead and she knows she needs to be ready. She can't make herself move, not yet - she's not ready; she's standing but she still feels like she's on the ground - but she knows she'll move soon. She knows she has to, or else they will all know something's wrong.

_Walk._

One foot in front of the other. It's that simple. There's nothing to it. But every movement makes her body ache and her heart race and her blood pound against her temples. Every step makes her head scream, telling her to go back, that she's not ready to move forward. She ignores the voices in her head because she can feel their gazes on her, feel their eyes locked on her. She knows that they're getting worried so she has to move on, has to keep walking. She doesn't like it, and she doesn't want to, but she does it. She does it for their sake more than for her own - she may have fallen, she may feel weak, but she still just wants to fix things. She wants them to be happy. She puts one foot in front of the other and she walks, until she feels the routine start to surround her, comfort her.

_Run._

The routine comes again and she starts to push it. She starts running, starts forcing change and growth on herself and on those around her. She glances at the world around her and she almost wants to stop, to stop running because even though she can't see it yet she _knows._ She's always been good at noticing patterns and seeing how things correlate. She's not blind to her own fate, she's not blind to the patterns in her own life. She's been down this same path so many times, running just as fast as she is now, not to know what's coming. But she can't stop herself; she can't slow down. Not until she stumbles, not until she falls. Not until it's too late to do anything about it, and even then, she knows it's just going to happen again.

_Stumble._

--


	8. The Walk

Disclaimer: Er, still don't own anything, sorry.  
A/N: Thanks to everybody who's been reviewing, I really appreciate it. (: I know a lot of you wanted a romantic fic (or just a happy one in general) - and to be honest, so did I - so I gave it a shot. Hope it doesn't disappoint!

**Golden Moments.**

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**Walk.**

This had to be the longest walk of her life.

Kate wanted to run. This was going too slow. The arm curled around her's, the body moving at perfect pace with her's, was the only thing that kept her from breaking into a run. It was all she could do not to try to speed up as it was. Her arm tightened around her father's. She was shaking from all the nerves and excitement that was coursing through her. She tried her best to keep her grin down, to keep it a small smile rather than a stupid-looking grin. She wasn't doing too well.

All eyes were on her, with the exception of the two or three babies in the pews. Where else would they be? They were supposed to be on her. Everyone was standing for her. Some part of her hated the attention (what if she fell?), though another part of her relished it (it was _her_ day, after all).

Lips against her cheek made her snap back to reality. The arm around her's loosened until it was just his hand in her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze before releasing. Her dad went turned and went to his seat by her mother, and she smiled at him in appreciation. Then she turned, her back to Abby (maid of honor, of course), who held her flowers, and her sister (just a bridesmaid - they weren't nearly as close). Kate smiled softly at the man before her, his smile just as gentle and loving.

She couldn't believe it was finally happening. The preacher's words were lost on her as she watched her groom. The way his eyes twinkled in the light, the way his smile never faltered, the way his thumb lightly rubbed the back of her hand, the way his eyes never left her face - she loved every moment of it. This was what she had been waiting for. The mark of a new beginning, of a new life, just her and him (and the team, of course, and any kids if they had any - she hoped they would, eventually). Kate wasn't paying much attention to the words coming out her mouth, the two simple words, though she knew she meant them as much as anybody ever would. How had it been her turn to speak so quickly? His face dipped down to meet her's and the grin broke out, unable to be contained.

It was well worth the wait.

--


	9. Perfection

Disclaimer: None of it's mine...  
A/N: Just a little something for the Tate fans. It's kinda short, I know, but... Enjoy!

**Golden Moments.**

**-  
**

**Perfection.**

His leg wrapped around her's. His arm sat across her waist, keep her body close to his. His head rest on top of her's, pushing her nose to his chest. She could feel his breath on the top of her head - in, out, in, out, in, out. His chest rose slowly, gently touching her nose and then falling away, gently touching her nose and then falling away, again and again.

Kate never would have imagined she would feel this way. So happy, so content, so.. Right. She never would have imagined she would feel this way. Especially not with him. Tony, who teased her endlessly about being Catholic and, of course, her wet t-shirt contest. Tony, who went running after every skirt that passed by. Tony, who lived for no reason other than to have sex and make her life hell.

But his heart beat in time with her's, she noticed. He exhaled as she exhaled. He inhaled when she inhaled. His chest rose as her chest rose. They were in time, together, him and her and her and him.

Kate wasn't sure, because she'd never felt it before, but this must have been perfection. And if not, she would choose this over perfection any day.


	10. Broken Mirror

Disclaimer: I own nothing.. Eh.  
A/N: M'kays, I'm not sure about the second person going on. I like it, but I'm one of the few out there that seems to like second person. Anyways, tell me what ya think! (:

**Golden Moments.**

-

**Broken Mirror.  
**

You've asked, but she's never told you. You didn't expect her to; you've never been that close to her. It hurt your pride a little bit, though, to know that she couldn't trust you enough to tell you. You didn't quite realize what you do now. Now it doesn't bother you as much, because you know that _nobody_ knows. It bothers you more, in a way, though - because nobody else even seems to _notice._

Honestly, you wouldn't have noticed either. You know that. Had you not walked in on her while she was crying, you never would have noticed just how bad it was. Had she not immediately tried to cover up the fact that she was crying, you probably wouldn't have thought it such a big deal. Even so, she was almost able to convince you she was fine. The fact that she was so good at hiding her feelings amazed you. It _scared _you.

You learned a long time ago that everybody's made of glass. Everybody's a lot like a mirror. Some are made stronger than others - they can withstand more abuse. Some are fragile - they break at the slightest fall. Some are somewhere in between - they crack with every fall, starting in the corners where they're barely noticeable, slowly creeping up until they're on the brink of shattering.

You think she's one of the former; you know that she's been through a lot in her life. She's never told you directly, but you think she had a tough childhood. She mentions her psychotic brothers and her not-so-close sister every now and then, but she never once mentions her parents. You've asked, and she's avoided your questions. You know what happened to Major Kerry. You know what's happened since she joined the team. You've seen the aftermath of her first kill and her first arrest and her first dead body. You've seen the way all the cases effect her. You've seen the way these different men she likes and dates treats her. You've seen the way Ari's effected her.

She's definitely one of the stronger ones. You've seen her fall so many times. You've seen what remains - those small bits of dirt and those smudges, that she can easily just wipe away - but you've never noticed a crack.

Had you not seen her crying, you never would have looked closely enough to notice all of those tiny little cracks. All the barely visible cracks that do little to ruin the reflection, but come together until eventually, you barely touch it and it shatters.

Had you not seen her crying, you never would have noticed that pieces of her have already fallen off.

She is one of the strong ones, but no one can be strong forever.


	11. Rearview

Disclaimer: Me? Own anything? Yeah, right.  
A/N: This is the idea I thought up in the car today... Interesting, eh? Sorry for the slow updates; I really wanted to do an update every day or so, but I'm planning out a multi-chapter fic, plus daily obligations get in the way. But, anyway: Enjoy!

**Golden Moments.**

-

**Rearview.**

She glanced at the rearview mirror, gently pressing the gas. The reflection of the NCIS building in her mirrors slowly got smaller and smaller, and once it was completely out of her sight, she let out a sigh of relief. Usually, she wasn't one for running away from her problems - that was the cowardly thing to do, and Kate didn't like to think of herself as a coward - but she was having a bad day. She just wanted to get away from it, from _all _of it. For good. Not temporarily, not for a thirty-minute lunch break. Permanently.

The car screeched to a halt in the small parking space, and she leaned back against the seat. Her eyelids fluttered closed and she let out a frustrated groan.

Her cell phone buzzed from her cup holder, and she glanced at the caller id. She didn't really need to because she knew it was Tony - who else would it be? - but she did it anyway. Kate silenced the vibrating phone, started her car again, and pulled out of the parking lot..

A honk from behind caused Kate to glance at her side mirror, smiling wryly as she read the letters printed on the glass.

She couldn't help but think about the NCIS building fading from her sight as she ran from it; she couldn't help but think about Tony's phone call even though she was so far away by that point.

Kate couldn't help but think about how she'd never really be able to run from her problems.

_Objects are closer than they appear._


	12. Too Far Gone

Disclaimer: Still, I own nothing..  
A/N: M'kays, so, I'm working on a multi-chapter fic (which will be posted once I get the first couple of chapters written), a short series of oneshots (which will be only a few chapters), and of course, this series right here. I'm going to have a Kibbs shot up soon, too, I hope; it just depends on how well I manage to get my ideas into words. (: Anyway, those are a few things you can look forward to from me. This particular oneshot was inspired by the song "Twisted" by Carrie Underwood, so, enjoy!

**Golden Moments.**

**Too Far Gone.**

Everything in her upbringing told her this was wrong. Kate could only imagine how everyone would react. She could only imagine what the nuns at her old Catholic school would say. She could only imagine the looks on her parents' faces. She could only imagine how her late Grandma Todd was turning over in her grave right about now.

She had never been the perfect Catholic - Lord knows she wasn't even close - but really, this had to be the worst thing she'd done yet.

Kate had to wonder, albeit briefly, what Tony would say if he saw that his 'goody goody' Catholic girl was actually far from it. She wondered what he would do if he saw her at that moment, her body pressed against Ziva's. The word 'shocked' probably wouldn't even _begin_ to cover it.

She couldn't help but smile slightly into the other woman's hair at the thought.

She knew it wasn't right. Kate knew it was wrong even beyond the strict values forced upon her during her childhood, and it scared her just a little bit to know how much she really didn't care. This was _wrong._ This could change so many different people's views on her. This could ruin relationships for her - past, present, and future.

In one way or another, this had the potential to _destroy_ her.

But Kate could honestly say she didn't care. She was too far _gone_ to care.


	13. Coffee and Sandpaper

Disclaimer: 'Fraid I still don't own it.  
A/N: As I said... Kibbs!

**Golden Moments.**

**-  
**

**Coffee and Sandpaper.**

Kate knew the rules. She knew every single rule he ever told them, from Rule One to Rule Twelve and all the repeats in between. She held onto every word he spoke, every breath he took near her; she noticed every move he made, every slight shake or twitch, every rise and fall of his chest. She tensed up every time he touched her, whether their fingers brushed when handing something over or if he was trying to protect her from something or he was trying to get by her. She tensed up because if she didn't, she was pretty sure she would melt in front of him.

There were times her breath hitched in her throat when he said her name. There were times her heart skipped a beat when he chose _her_ to help him over Tony or McGee. There were times her hands started to shake when they were alone together. There were times she thought that she had died and gone to heaven when they were anywhere within three feet of each other.

It was against his rules - the infamous Rule Twelve he had given them over and over again. It was probably the one rule he truly remembered, given how many times he drilled it into their minds. But Kate would tell herself it wasn't breaking the rules if nothing happened - and nothing _would_ happen, because he was the one who came up with the rules. It was like she was thinking about stealing something from a store, but the camera's right behind her and the store manager's right beside her so she _can't. _But people can't read minds, so any thoughts were safe. At least for as long as she managed to keep them purely thoughts.

Every once in a while, she would wonder what pushed him to create Rule Twelve in the first place. There had to be some underlying reason, some motivation, some past experience that sparked the necessity -

Then he would walk by, and Kate would smell that mixture of stale coffee and sandpaper that was _so him_ and she would forget anything and everything she was thinking about. Her mind would be filled with only thoughts of him, her head battling itself to get a grip.

And even after she gained control she would be craving coffee. Black.


	14. Strong Enough

Disclaimer: Still, I own nothing.  
A/N: M'kays, so, it's been a while since my last update... I'm sorry for that. I've been working on a couple other things, so if you're interested, check those out/watch out for them. (Nothing wrong with free advertising, right? Haha.) Anyway, hopefully somebody else gets what I was hinting at with this one... You may need to squint a little bit, though. Anyhoo, this isn't my best, I'm afraid, but I still hope you enjoy it. (:

-

**Golden Moments.**

-

**Strong Enough.**

No matter how much she liked to tell herself that she was, Kate Todd knew that she really wasn't that strong.

She couldn't bring herself to spank a dog when it looked up at her with those sweet eyes. She couldn't go hunting, no matter how much her dad tried to get her to. She always teared up when the abused animal commercials flashed across her television screen.

She couldn't drink coffee without milk and sweetener. She couldn't down a whiskey without staring at it for a few minutes first, as if that made it taste any better. She hated the burn of vodka.

She felt a strong sense of guilt whenever she shot a criminal. She couldn't help but feel bad when she took a husband or mother or brother or daughter away for murder. She was unable to keep herself from becoming attached to some cases, despite her best efforts to stay neutral.

She cried over bad breakups, even if the guy wasn't worth her tears. She couldn't hide her fear when someone she cared about was in danger. She wasn't good at letting people go.

She gave in and bought a candy bar every once in a while, even though she knew full well about her diet. Sometimes she couldn't make herself get up before eight on a day off. She failed to make herself a real meal some days after a long day of work.

She couldn't bring herself to answer her sister's phone calls, or even call her back half the time. She tuned out her father's empty apologies. She refused to go back to Indiana, even though her mom constantly begged her. There was too much baggage there. She didn't like baggage.

She couldn't let go of the past sometimes.

She was the weakest link of the team.

She wasn't as open or warm as Tony. She couldn't stare someone down as effectively as Gibbs. She wasn't as reassuring as Ducky. She couldn't be as innocent as Jimmy. She couldn't fix things or find her way around a computer like McGee. She couldn't listen to Abby's music for more than a couple of songs without her head hurting, nor could she be as supportive and friendly as the goth.

She was weaker than the people who ruined it.

She couldn't invoke fear like Ari. She couldn't put up walls around her heart like Ziva.

Kate Todd was weak in so,_ so_ many ways, and she knew every single one of them.

But she also knew that she was strong enough to let the daylight fade to twilight when it was time.


	15. The Fear of Striking Out

Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
A/N: Some references to both Kibbs and Tate in here. So, you know, enjoy.

**Golden Moments.**

**The Fear of Striking Out.**

She has always let the fear of striking out keep her from playing the game.

Her mother had always told her not to, because she couldn't win if she didn't play. Kate would always respond with the argument that she couldn't lose, either; to that, her mother would just sigh and shake her head. But the subject would be dropped, and that was enough for Kate.

She knows that it's true, and she often regrets it, just as her mom said she would. She's always left with the _'what ifs?' _swarming around in her head and a nagging feeling that maybe, just maybe, she should have tried.

But then she tells herself it's okay, because at least she didn't lose.

There are times that Gibbs looks at her a certain way and her chest feels like it's about to explode. There are times they're alone and she considers telling him or even _showing_ him how she feels. But then she looks at him, and thinks about how good everything is, and she doesn't want to risk it.

There are times that Tony makes an inappropriate comment, or makes some suggestion, and for a second Kate wants to take him up on his offer. There are times he looks at her and she wishes she could look back in the same way. But then she remembers the threat Gibbs made to her, and she doesn't quite want to risk it.

There are times that she _knows _a suspect isn't guilty. There are times that she's absolutely certain about who it really was. But then she remembers the job, and the need for proof, and though Gibbs can follow his gut whenever he feels like it she knows she can't, so she doesn't risk it.

There was a time that she could have stabbed Ari with a scalpel. There was a time she could have ended it all. But she looked into his eyes, and it wasn't kindness that she saw there, like she said; she knew that if she failed to kill him the first time that he certainly wouldn't hesitate in killing her or, even worse, Gerald or Ducky. So she couldn't bring herself to risk it.

Kate doesn't know it yet, but the fear of striking out may have just kept her from ever being able to play at all.


End file.
